


Bottomless Mimosas

by pastrywrites



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Collection of Oneshots and Ficlets, College, Friendship, Parents, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9407687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastrywrites/pseuds/pastrywrites
Summary: A compilation of short stories and ficlets based on the Check Please! webcomic by Ngozi.Ch. 4: March, the Problematic™ straight cis white girl from Houston, Texas.Ch. 5: Hi mom and dad, this is my American boyfriend, Bernard.





	1. His Name Is

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,
> 
> This is the first time that I'm posting anything I've written at all. I ask that you be kind if you choose to leave a comment. I don't know if I will be posting longer stories or oneshots - that's not really my style and honestly I don't consider myself much of a /writer/. But I hope you do enjoy my short blurbs/ficlets (that are the result of an overactive imagination). 
> 
> Pastry

His name is Kent Parson and he was born on a day where bright, fiery explosions decorate the night sky.

His name is Kent Parson and surely sharing a birthday with a great country means that he is destined for greatness.

His name is Kent Parson and he is 18 and too young to know, too young to understand, too young to see how his actions and inactions have failed _Jack_.

His name is Kent Parson and he is…so _so_ sorry, but he does not know how to ask, how to act, how to beg forgiveness – to show that he _cares_.

His name is Kent Parson and he is 24 and a selfish fuck up.

His name is Kent Parson and he _hates_ himself, more than Jack hates him.

His name is Kent Parson and he does not think he was born for greatness, not if greatness is supposed to feel so e m p t y.


	2. Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU
> 
> It's fine.
> 
> No. No it's not.
> 
> (I've edited Swoops' last name to reflect updates.)

When Jeff was born, he didn’t have a mark – the initials of his destined, his heart, his life and breath. His _soulmate._

And that.

That was fine.

It wasn’t as if he was the only one, there were others. He was a part of a small percentage of the population whose bodies were blank. (B l a n k s _._ That’s what they were called.)

He wasn’t _bullied_ per say, his family still loved him all the same. Maybe even a little more so because they feared he would end up alone. It’s just that the distant politeness of others grated on him after some time, no matter how polite they were.

He wasn’t _excluded_ from things, not on purpose anyway. Society was built a certain way and soulmates just happened to be the center of everything. Jeff wasn’t stupid, despite being categorically stereotyped as a hockeybro. He understands that it’s hard to shift society on ideals and values ingrained at its inception.

So, Jeff centers his life around hockey. He playsandplaysandplays and damn it all if he isn’t _good._

Jeff is drafted in 2006 at the age of 18, not going first (because he’s no genius at hockey, but he works hard enough to make up for that) but not going last.

It’s fine.

He goes through one season and is traded. Which is okay because he didn’t like this team much off ice anyway and well, he can roll with the punches.

He stays with this new team for two seasons until he’s traded to the Aces, the same year that they draft Kent Parson.

And Jeff isn’t going to lie, he’s worried because this kid is supposed to be a genius. A genius who seems to have a mentor of some sort in Bob Zimmerman - the man, the legend himself. So he goes at it harder and if he gave his 100% in hockey before, well now he gives his 120%.

Which is fine.

The Aces give him the nickname Swoops and he’s not entirely sure why but he kinda likes it. It was harder for them to find one for Kent, after getting a rather adverse reaction to Kenny – there’s a story there but Jeff isn’t the type to pry. So after some debating, Kent Parson becomes Parse to the team and life goes on.

Jeff plays hockey, _good_ hockey for the Las Vegas Aces as Swoops. The team winsandwinsandwins until they make it to play offs and then they win that too. So now he has a Stanley Cup under his belt. And that’s great. More than great actually.

Things are great and stay great for a while until he wakes up one day and sees something in his bathroom mirror while brushing his teeth.

Initials.

Bright green initials that he is sure he didn’t have last night on his left collar bone. _KVP_.

It happens, he thinks, trying to process the sudden appearance of the initials. Sometimes it happens and peoples’ mark change (or appear in his case) because life dictates it and because no one is ever static and never changing. There have been studies that he’s read when he was younger and _desperate_. Before he was fine. And he is.

He’s fine. This is fine.

Jeff isn’t really sure what to do about the initials (even though he’s pretty sure he knows who they belong to). They follow each other on social media – Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat and they’re even Facebook friends. They talk about TV shows they watch and, on a handful of occasions, binge watched various TV shows and movies together.

They even room together on roadies. So he’s pretty sure that he’s at least friends with Kent.

And friends…should tell each other these kinds of things.

Jeff doesn’t know how he’s going to tell Kent, doesn’t know when or if he even should. There’s also the possibility that Kent already _knows_. So while his mind is deliberating, his heart decided for him and he’s at Kent’s apartment building, taking the elevator up to the 9th floor. In hindsight, he probably should have given Kent a heads up or called or something. It’s too late for that now though, he’s standing right in front of Kent’s door with his finger on the doorbell.

Kent is home, luckily. He hears some shuffling before Kent opens up his door a crack and sticks his head out.

“Swoops?”

“I have your initials.” And well. 

Kent raises his eyebrows probably not expecting this but invites Jeff in nonetheless.

It could have been worse, he thinks. Kent could have just slammed the door in his face and things could have gotten awkward on the ice.

But it wasn't so Jeff thanks the lord for small miracles.

So he squares his shoulders, releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and prepares himself for the hardest conversation he’ll ever have in his life.

Before they talk though, Kent asks Jeff to show him. So he tugs down his collar where the initials KVP sits on his left collarbone.

“Can I?” Kent gestures his hands. Jeff nods.

Kent touches the mark, _his_ mark on Jeff’s skin. When he retracts his hand, he’s thinking. They stand in silence for three minutes while Kent thinks.

Then he pulls his collar down. And what do you know? Jeff’s own initials sit on Kent’s right collarbone. JNT in the brightest gold he’s ever seen. Jeffrey Nathan Troy, he thinks to himself as he raises his fingers, silently asking for permission to touch. Kent nods his assent.

The both of them move to sit on Kent’s couch and its silent before Kent speaks up and the conversation goes something like this:

“I’m sorry.”

“What why?”

“I’m. I. It’s just – there’s.”

“Someone else?”

“Was.”

“Was?”

“It’s fucked.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I was born blank.”

Kent looked confused at that so Jeff continued speaking.

“I didn’t have a mark and I didn’t think that I would ever have a mark. So.” Jeff pauses to think for a moment, to think about the weight of what he was going to say.

“So?”

Jeff inhales and exhales slowly.

“I think I can wait.”

“Wait? For what?”

“For you, of course. To be anything you want us to be.”

And at that, Kent looks genuinely confused.

“Why the fuck would you – look I’m – I just don’t think.” Kent starts and stops and takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure you should.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything but motions for Kent to explain himself.

“I fucked up and I’ll probably continue to fuck up and I don’t want to drag you into this. We haven’t even known each other for that long and...” Kent makes some hand gestures to show that he’s out of words to explain.

Explain what? Jeff’s not sure.

But he thinks he should say something.

“It’s fine, we’ve all fucked up and well. I know I’ve fucked up a couple of times in my life.” Jeff pauses again and thinks again about the weight of his words. “We don’t have to be romantic soulmates, we can be platonic…Or we don’t have to be anything but I’d like to be there for you.”

One moment passes.

Two.

Then three and four pass by before Kent says anything.

“That’s…fine.” Kent sounded unsure, unsettled and maybe a little overwhelmed but Jeff was too and he agreed in his head. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. _They’ll_ be fine.

But…

It’s actually not fine because Jeff can already see the long and arduous ride ahead of him. He thinks he’s okay with not fine though.

Actually.

Not fine sounds great.


	3. Ethan "Poots" Peterson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan "Poots" Peterson has a degree in psychology.

The thing is, Ethan “Poots” Peterson isn’t dumb. He’s an actual college graduate with a degree in psychology. He can’t read people, despite the stereotypes that assume psychologists and psychology majors can.

What he can do is make observations and inferences and a shit ton of assumptions. Basically, he notices things. A lot of things – which is either a blessing or a curse, depending on the day.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t chirp his teammates on things that he knows would be _too much_. He’s okay with being the pseudo-scapegoat for things that aren’t his fault, like how Snowy chirped him for a six-man pile up that happened while he wasn’t even on ice.  The team never really blames him for anything real – like losses or mistakes or just things that he would actually take to heart.

Anyway, of course Ethan notices that Jack has a someone. A someone who may or may not be a certain baker on a certain hockey team of a certain college. But that’s just all speculation, so he doesn’t say anything. Also, it’s not any of his business anyway.

If there’s anything his degree taught him, it’s that everyone has reasons for doing things and the world is just full of people with reasons and intentions and circumstances that drive them to certain actions that may or may not impact others around them, which then causes a chain reaction of other actions and so on and so forth. Basically, it’s a giant spider web of people doing things that lead to other things and it’s honestly less of a hassle to stay in his own lane.

(And when he can’t he tries to at least use his signal light and show respect.)

So if Jack wasn’t ready to tell the team, Ethan wouldn’t say anything. But again, everything he thinks he knows has just been some assumptions he’s made based on some things he’s seen.

Besides, he understands. Professional sports is not always the kindest to the LGBT community, which is the understatement of the century. Even on his college team, he’s had to hold himself back from punching certain team members in the face for “just locker room talk.”

(Because it’s not.)

Ethan almost wishes he himself could give Jack some type of reassurance, that he’s not alone and that each of the Falconers support the LGBT community publicly and personally. But he can’t because it’s all inference and no actual facts.

Ethan also has himself to worry about. He’s not gay, but he’s not straight either – he’s really still figuring it out. He’s also a rookie and not dating anyone right now, so it really shouldn’t matter but it does.

He doesn’t know if he can stay closeted once he does figure out what exactly he feels comfortable calling himself. He also thinks that labels are stupid but can’t deny the validation they give. It’d be nice to have the team support him no matter what though, he thinks.

(He stays silent.)

When Jack does come out to the team, during a team pot luck event, Ethan feels like he’s smiling the hardest. Eric Bittle is there, because Jack invited him at the team’s insistence because _pie_.

Ethan sees Jack and Eric have a silent conversation between themselves involving some facial expressions and a hand movement or two. After a few more facial expressions and hand gestures, Jack clears his throat and says that he has something to tell everyone.

He looks nervous, but Ethan can't blame him because what he says next gives Ethan more reasons to respect the hell out of Jack. Reasons that have nothing to do with his mad hockey skills. 

“Ehm…Eri- Bitty and I are dating. We have been since I graduated.”

And there’s silence for ten seconds before –

“YOU FUCKING OWE ME FIFTY TATER.”

“Zimmboni, why no wait?” Tater cries. “I’m bet on you tell us about baker next month!”

“Uh..”

“Y’all are betting on Jack’s love life?” Eric drawled with his eyebrows raised.

“Ignore them. Thank you for trusting us with this kiddo.” Guy says, his usual frown a tad less frowny.

“Yeah kid, honestly how did you score Bittle? These pies could bring world peace.” Thirdy adds.

Marty and his wife, Gabby, smile and actually hug both Jack and Eric – _like they knew_. Then other team members follow and start offering up their two cents and hugs and support. All-in-all, things go well and the rest of the night is spent drinking beer or wine or both, eating, and socializing.

(And ugh, that pie.)

At the end of the night, Ethan approaches Jack and Eric before they leave.

“Hey Jack and uh..Bittle?”

“Bitty’s fine, hon.”

“Uh okay, Bitty then.”

“Is there something you needed?” Jack asks.

“Oh. Um, I just wanted to. Support.” Ethan cringes. “What I mean is. Thanks. For telling us. It means a lot to us – to me.”

Ethan hopes that both Jack and Bitty understands what he means.

They do.

“Oh hon,” Bitty moves to hug him, “let us know if you ever need anyone to talk to, okay?”

Jack nods in agreement.

“We’ll help you anyway we can Poots. We know how it is.”

“I’m still trying to figure it...figure myself out, but thanks. Really.”

(Ethan does, eventually.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't get the headcannon that Poots went to college out of my mind and this happened.


	4. March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March, the Problematic™ straight cis white girl from Houston, Texas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Based on a true friendship.  
> 2\. Hi, I'm from htx and it's a pretty diverse city, depending on where you go. So. Keep that in mind while reading this chapter. Thanks! :) 
> 
> Pastry

March will be the first to admit that she is the whitest white girl to ever white girl. She's not going to deny that she has grown up with incredible privilege. Case in point:

  1. Her dad works as an in-house lawyer for a large, international oil & gas company.
  2. Her mom works for a large accounting firm, specializing in mergers and acquisitions.
  3. What this mean is that both her parents make bank and therefore, money is no object to her.
  4. She grew up in a rich, and mostly white, suburb located north in Houston, Texas. 
  5. It was very hetero-normative and  _white,_ with a few other ethnic minorities mixed in here and there. 
  6. (and boring, now that she's been at Samwell for like 3 years).
  7. Coming to Samwell gave her massive culture shock at first- but she got over herself in time, especially when she met April (who is totally her BFF now).



March is also not going to deny or excuse her Problematic™  tendencies during her first year at Samwell. Nothing made sense, everyone was so...different. She wasn't used to not having a clique of individuals who weren't actually  _individuals_ and who thought exactly like her. It was unnerving and she really just wanted transfer to a university near her home after her first semester. 

Her parents wouldn't let her. They told her that it would be enriching to meet and befriend people who were different from her. They told her that they hoped that Samwell would broaden her mindset and enable her to think on a more flexibly. They, as parents always somehow do, end up being absolutely right. 

At first, she thought they were stupid and that there was no way Samwell would do anything for her. Looking back on it, current March would say that past March was being a literal brat and is quite honestly, disgusted with her past self. 

She's glad her parents were right, because when she came back from winter break for her second semester, she met April.

(Well, not met, but like actually talked to and stuff.)

March knew of April, they were on the volleyball team together. It's just that she hadn't actually talked to April until they had an English class together. The class where April basically saved her behind because she's actually pretty freaking horrible at English.  

April was so wildly different from her that she thought they were never going to be friends. Whereas March was a Republican (not a extreme right winged asshole, mind you), April was a more liberal Democrat. To her complete surprise, April became her closest friend in her life. 

April's differing views became refreshing, as time passed, rather than annoying to March. They were able to have constructive discourse on many topics - including cats versus dogs. While there are topics that they would never ever agree on, March found that she and April still had many things that they could agree on. It was great.

March goes home that summer with a different mindset. She actually thanks her parents and then proceeds to tell them all about April, her new best friend. She shows them pictures and talks about how April basically carried her through that English class she's pretty sure she would have failed. She goes on and on at about how kick ass April is at volleyball, especially her receives. Solid. A+. 10/10, would recommend.  

Her parents just roll their eyes and smile at her because "we know March, we're facebook friends," and "April is in all your pictures now." 

When March goes to meet up with her Houston friends, one day that summer, it's all "who's that _girl_ " and "how can you stand being at _that school_." It makes her uncomfortable. She leaves their hang out early, citing some bull shit excuse. She ends up talking to them less and less and then eventually not at all. She doesn't regret it though. Not at all. 

April comes out to her about a year later. March takes it all in stride - because she's better now. She's more informed on the social and economic issues that plague America. She's no longer stuck in a bubble where everyone thinks the same way. She's no longer March, the Problematic™ straight cis white girl from Houston, Texas.

Nope.

No siree. 

She's now March, the straight cis white girl who's awesome at volleyball, whose best friend is April, who recognizes all the goddamn privilege she has (and if she could give some of that away, she would because _it isn't fair_ ), who's built of steel and is stronger than she ever thought she was, who's from Houston, Texas Baby™ (Bless Queen Bey).  

She hopes, at least. 

(It's a work in progress.)

When April is finished talking, March looks her straight in the eye and asks, "how can I help," and "what do I need to know?" She makes sure that April knows that she's not going anywhere because _sorry April but you're stuck with this pasty white girl 5ever._  She makes sure that April knows that March will have her back no matter what,  _no seriously April - I will punch a LAX bro in the face if I need to._  

A year after that, April introduces her to Justin, from the hockey team and March -

_March can't._

(She's gone at first sight for that boy.) 


	5. Lardo & Larissa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi mom and dad, this is my American boyfriend, Bernard.

It’s not that Lardo doesn’t want to be something with Shitty.

She does. She really _really_ does.

She wants to date and romance him so hard that she’d put Jack “One-Hundred-and-Ten-Percent” Zimmerman to s h a m e.

But she doesn’t feel complete or ready or grounded enough to love Shitty like he deserves. Like anyone deserves, really.

And yeah, she’s told Shitty this when they were high as hell and he asked her why they weren’t a thing yet because they could probably take over the world. He said it in a joking manner, but she knew he was serious.

Shitty said he’d take what he could get and that he’d be support her in whatever way she needs. Lardo doesn’t doubt that, because for all the white-male-upper-class-heteronormative privilege Shitty gets due to the cards fate dealt him, he doesn’t take it for granted. He knows that he has privilege and he wants to use that privilege for good. Sometimes, he still gets it wrong but he stops and listens and corrects his behavior.

Which Lardo thinks is so _attractive._

It also helps that Shitty is exactly Lardo’s type physically. Yes, she has a type. A type that may or may not lean towards people who are taller than her, stronger than her and are more athletic than her. Except the LAX bros.

She just needs to figure some shit in her life out.

It’s hard.

It’s hard because there are questions that she doesn’t want to think about and she doesn’t want to face the answers that are literally right there. There are problems that she doesn’t want to even touch with a ten-foot-paintbrush but knows that her life would get so much better if she’d just confront them. There are ideas and concepts that she doesn’t want to consider because…it’s complicated.

Her parents have had expectations for her since day one and she’s consistently "defied" them since day one. It's not like Lardo intentionally goes out of her way to upset her parents. She knows and understands and loves her parents for the sacrificed they’ve made for the life she has. However, they don’t understand her and they don't try to. Not really, anyway.

She’s tried explaining to them what she wants and who she is but she’s met with constant rebuttal that she’s “just confused” or that “she’ll get over it” or that “she’ll understand when she’s older.”

The year leading up to Samwell was her hardest one yet. The relationship between her and her parents got exponentially worse. The house was always filled with this tension, thick and suffocating. It frustrated her to the point of tears some nights.

She found herself picking up more shifts at the art store she worked part time at, just to get out of the house and to have money saved up. She even picked up another part time job on the weekends.

Lardo wants to make them happy, she really _really_ does.

She just doesn’t know how without compromising important parts of herself.

She doesn’t have a clue on where to begin to fix the relationship between them. She isn’t able to talk to them about her values and beliefs, without starting a fight. She can’t find the voice to explain to them that just because their daughter doesn’t necessarily conform to their expectations or their reality of her, doesn’t mean that all they've sacrificed was for naught.

She doesn’t know how to tell them that Lardo isn’t “Larissa.”

Maybe actually officially dating Shitty and introducing him to her parents would patch things up. Sort of.

_Hi mom and dad, this is my American boyfriend, Bernard. He was on the hockey team I managed and is now a law student at Harvard. He’s also rich and can absolutely support me._

It also might not.

_Hi mom and dad, this is my Not-Asian boyfriend, Bernard. He played on a violent sport team that I managed and is now a law student at Harvard. He’s also has money so I won’t ever need to work._

(Even worse, their relationship might become a new bragging chip to use against the extended family – _well you know my daughter is dating a successful future American Lawyer._ )

She doesn’t want to use Shitty like that though, even if he’d probably be willing.

No.

The relationship between her and her parents is something she’ll have to fix without using Shitty as a crutch. She knows that if she does, her parents will keep overlooking Lardo and that’s not something she wants.

She wants them to reconcile Lardo and Larissa and accept her for who she is. She knows she's not the daughter they expected.

But she’s the daughter they fucking have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I projected my experiences a little.


End file.
